


homecoming

by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)



Category: Marvel Noir
Genre: Fluff, M/M, coming home, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 08:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20579411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/IronSwordStarShield
Summary: Steve’d been told he would get his orders to go home soon, soon, soon, soldier. Yes, the war is over but it's still going to take some time to wrap things up and send everyone home. So Steve waits impatiently. And then finally the day comes when he gets them. It’s twenty days after the Axis has declared a complete surrender that Steve gets to go home, to New York, to Tony.





	homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [@negativesd09‘s newest stevetony piece (stony kiss 35/50) that dropkicked me right in my feels + inspiration.](https://twitter.com/Sadaharu_bl/status/1142483822694375424) Here’s noir verse steve returning home to his man~
> 
> [[mood music for reading]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QAuOqqKH2vs)

Steve’d been told he would get his orders to go home soon, soon, soon, soldier. Yes, the war is over but it's still going to take some time to wrap things up and send everyone home. So Steve waits impatiently. And then finally the day comes when he gets them. It’s twenty days after the Axis has declared a complete surrender that Steve gets to go home, to New York, to Tony.

He moves like wildfire through the brush. He packs his stuff, hitching a ride out on the first vehicle available, bargaining, coaxing, pleading this way onto the next ship that’s America-bound. It takes him three whole days to arrive state-side, another day to wrap up his paperwork at Camp Lehigh before Steve can get his bike out of storage and make a beeline for Stark Manor in New York.

There’s a long overdue answer that Steve needs to give to Tony.

It takes him just under three hours and Steve’s heart continues to swell with hopeful expectation, hoping that Tony’ll be home, hoping he’ll surprise Tony, hoping Tony’ll ask him to stay. It’s not something they’ve talked about in specifics, what they will be once the war is over. But they’ve implied in not so many words that they both want to stay together. 

And there’s also the ‘gift’ Tony had given him on their last meeting, during Steve's last leave, saying that Steve shouldn’t feel pressured into saying yes. Every time Steve feels the ring press against his skin, nervous knots form in his stomach. Finally home and with an answer to Tony’s question four months late, Steve’s filled with a fragile nervous happiness; the bubble swells to bursting point as he brakes in front of the Stark Mansion. He hopes he’s not too late.

He’s barely turned the rumbling engine off when Jarvis is throwing the doors open, face alight with happiness. “Mr. Rogers,” the man greets with a warm smile, “Welcome home.”

Steve knows that Jarvis means welcome back to America but it’s so easy to pretend that Jarvis means here, the mansion, and he flushes with happiness. “It’s good to be back,” he offers, switching the engine off before he hurries up the short steps, blue Captain helmet still in his hands.

Steve’s never been at the mansion and curiosity wins temporarily over his eagerness; his eyes sweep over the grand foyer, taking in the gold and crystal chandelier hanging overhead, the ornate double staircase, the large vases standing guard next to them. There’s a picture of the Starks hanging within his line of sight, a young, beaming Tony stands between his proud parents and Steve feels his heart, already racing with anticipation, speed up more.

“Is Tony home?” Steve asks, suddenly breathless.

Jarvis’ eyes sweep up to the top of the stairs, smile widening. “In his room. He has an appointment tonight. A victory party.”

Oh. Steve follows the look, wondering if he should go up and surprise Tony in his room. A sizzle of heat rushes up his spine and settles in the apple of his cheeks as he thinks it would make their reunion all the more easier if they were already in a bedroom. But before Steve can ask if he can go upstairs, Tony’s voice floats down the staircase. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Steve’s body turns to face Tony, who is hurrying down the stairs, staring angrily at his open sleeves, struggling with his cuff links obviously.

“Jarvis, I swear these damn cuff links are cursed. Every time I try to wear them, I can’t clasp them close. I’m going to need you help with these. Also, I’m going to have a bite to eat before I leave. Knowing Robin, we’re not going to get anything to eat until 10 and I can’t wait that damn long for food.”

Steve clears his throat, grinning when Tony looks up, irritation transforming into pure shock. He throws his arms open and says, “I’m home.”

Tony stands on a carpeted step, fingers frozen on his cuff, blue eyes widening to a comical degree. The cuff links fall to the carpeted steps with a dull thud as Tony leaps down the stairs, runs across the wooden floor, and jumps into Steve’s waiting arms to kiss him senseless. Steve accepts Tony, his welcome, his kiss happily, holding his ground as Tony’s arms wrap around Steve’s neck.

Tony’s strong thighs clench against Steve’s thighs, holding Tony steady as his mouth steals the breath out of Steve’s lung. Tony’s tongue sweeps its way into Steve’s open mouth immediately; it’s reminiscent of their last time together in London, at the tail end of the war, before Steve was going to lead an incredibly dangerous mission - attack Baron Zemo’s bunker, his final hideout, and apprehend him at all costs. Tony had kissed him like it was their last time together, like he was desperate to leave an impression on Steve. Don’t forget me, Tony seemed to tell Steve with every kiss, every touch, every thrust. And then he’d pulled a ring out of his discarded pants, whispering that Steve didn’t have to accept this. He could consider this a vow. Or a simple gift if he wasn’t ready.

And honestly? At the time? Steve had felt scared shitless, not sure if he was ready for a long-term commitment with anyone, much less another man. Now? He's a different man. Steve runs his tongue over Tony’s teeth, tightening his arms around Tony’s form, telegraphing with his body, his soul, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, I’m home.

Steve doesn’t want to stop kissing Tony. His mind, his heart, both sing the same song they had when he’d been desperately trying to stop Zemo’s missile from taking off, knowing it was either let the missile fly for America or sacrifice himself to prevent it from happening. _I want to be with Tony, I want to spend my life with him, I love him so much, I want all the time in the world with him and more_. This time however, there’s no desperation to the thoughts, it’s just a bone-deep satisfaction and peace because this is the right call. Fuck, it’s hard to think straight when Tony squeezes his thighs against Steve’s sides, bringing back sense memories of all the times they’ve been in bed and Tony does the same damn thing when Steve’s moving in him.

The point Steve’s trying to make is that when he’d been this close to sacrificing his life, he’d realized that his greatest fear and regret would be missing out on living his life out with Tony. So what he’s saying is, when they’d managed to stop the missile from taking off and Steve had gotten time to breathe, he’d realized he wanted to be with Tony. And put the gold band onto his left hand, happiness immediately bubbling up in him. No one'd ever told Steve that near death experiences can bring such clarity into one's life (he can hear Tony chiding him for the thought, begging with a laugh not to make a habit of that please.)

He has to pull away, not because he needs to breath or because Jarvis is there. But because Steve needs to show Tony. Right arm keeping Tony steady against him, Steve brings his left hand between them and shows the gold ring off, smiling shyly. Tony’s dazed gaze moves to the ring, dumbly stays there as he obviously tries to process the sight through the lust-fog hanging over his brain. Steve sees the moment it clicks in Tony’s brain, feels it in the suddenly slackening in Tony’s muscles.

“You…” Tony exhales, surprised eyes meeting Steve’s blue ones. “Really?”

“Really.” Steve can’t help but cup Tony’s face, wanting his shock to turn back into happiness. I’m sorry if I made you think I didn’t want to be with you. Because I do, very much so. I was just scared you might change your mind.”

Tony shakes his head incredulously, fingers rubbing against Steve’s bomber jacket before sweeping back into Steve’s hair. “Why would you thi- Never mind. We’ll talk about that later. Jarvis,” Tony leans forward, goatee brushing against Steve’s ear and making the taller man shiver, “Please send Robin my condolences. Please tell her I’ve suddenly taken ill and I won’t be able to make it to her party.”

He pulls back to meet Steve’s gaze. Tony’s eyes smolder with promise, voice low and loaded with promise when he murmurs, “There’s news of our own that needs celebrating.” The look and the tone both make Steve’s half-chub twitch with interest. Tony turns his face, presses an open mouthed kiss to Steve’s ring. _Fuck,_ Steve shivers when the wet tip of Tony’s tongue traces the curve of the band. _He's going to be the death of me._

And Steve doesn't want it any other way.


End file.
